


Things he won't ever admit

by shanqi



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Eyes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1804972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanqi/pseuds/shanqi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Joan drink coffee. And Sherlock stares a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things he won't ever admit

Sherlock walks briskly along the paved sidewalk as cabs honk their way down the street, heading towards where he knows Joan will be at this hour. He is no more than a few hundred metres away when his senses are attacked by the familiar smell of coffee above the mix of other scents New York City somehow manages to procure. He spots her from across the street, sitting in her usual place beside the full length windows of her favourite coffee shop which, though he would never admit it, Sherlock also preferred above others nearby.

Joan had discovered it last winter, having taken a slightly altered route during her morning jog, courtesy of a burst mains pipe. She had been drawn in by the scent of coffee and the warm white incandescent lights which illuminated and heated the store. Sherlock had later tried to point out the outdatedness and inefficiency of the bulbs to the owner, who had refused to switch them out, arguing that they added to the atmosphere of his shop. Sherlock made it a point to complain loudly about the coffee shop’s energy consumption whenever the owner was within earshot, much to Joan’s embarrassment. He wouldn’t ever tell her but he does it to see the flustered look on her face as she tries to quieten him before bowing her head in shame when the owner glares at him.

Joan contentedly sips on her coffee whilst Sherlock watches for a long moment from where he had paused when he saw her. He studies her carefully, from the way her delicate yet skilled hands grip the cup to the slight smile on her lips as she returns the greetings of a complete stranger walking past her. Sherlock often takes the time to study her when he knows she won’t realise and finds that he has become increasingly enamoured by his partner, another fact he would never admit.

Deciding that he’s been standing out in the cold for long enough, he crosses the street and enters the shop, announcing his presence by loudly calling out to his partner, “Watson! I’ve been looking for you.” The corners of his mouth twitch up briefly as Joan turns her head away, suddenly aware that all the other customers have their eyes on Sherlock and her. Luckily, he decides to spare her this time and quickly orders before plonking himself in the seat directly facing her. 

“What are you doing here?” Joan mumbles, finishing the last of her coffee and watching the shop owner from the corner of her eye, preparing herself to evacuate with Sherlock at the first sign of an impending disagreement. 

“I know how she killed her husband,” Sherlock responds excitedly, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. 

_Of course_ , Joan thinks, _why else would he come here?_

She rolls her eyes and makes what she hopes is an inconspicuous gesture to the old lady who has been staring at Sherlock since his arrival and a tired-looking father who has stopped paying attention to his son in favour of listening in to their conversation. “Do we have to do this here?” Sherlock turns his head slowly, making it obvious that he’s surveying the room, which results in their onlookers diverting their gaze and earns him another reprimand from Joan. 

“Fine. Not here then,” Sherlock sulks, just as his coffee order arrives at the table. He mumbles inaudibly under his breath, adding a tiny portion of sugar and stirring his drink as Joan thanks the barista for him. He brings the coffee up to his mouth for a sip and glances up at Joan, looking directly into her eyes over his cup. The light is reflecting off them at an angle so that her irises appear to be a slightly lighter shade of dark brown and for the first time, he can just make out the edge of her pupils.

Joan looks into his piercing hazel eyes and can almost see the data he is categorising and storing in his brain as he studies her. She realises that she has never focussed on his eyes before and is amazed by their depth and liveliness. The entrance of a customer into the shop brings her back to reality and she clears her throat, pulling her gaze away from Sherlock. 

“What do you see?” she asks him.

“Sorry, what?” Sherlock asks, having just been pulled back to the present himself and still awed by the never-ending chasm he had found in her eyes, a well he had promptly fallen through. 

“My eyes. What facts are you storing away in that mind of yours?”

“Oh,” he responds, coming to his senses and realising that if he had been looking directly into her eyes than she would definitely have seen him staring. “I wasn’t. I didn’t. I was just thinking about the case and that we should let Captain Gregson know of our discovery immediately.” Yet another thing he couldn’t bring himself to admit to.

“Oh,” Joan says, and he can hear the tinge of disappointment in her voice behind the suspicion, “Well, we better get going then.” Sherlock nods, finishes his coffee in large gulps and stands quickly to open the door for her. 

He takes great care to avoid gazing into her eyes again for a long while, afraid of falling too far through the window into her soul and not being able to find his way out. 


End file.
